Yesterday's Memories
by paper pixi
Summary: A PeterWendy fiction. Pan's back and he's different. She's changed too and he doesn't like it. When she denies him access to her heart, Peter ends up driving her away completely by his greed. Will he realize she's the one who has held his heart all along?
1. Hopeless

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YESTERDAY'S MEMORIES

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Chapter One: Hopeless

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Author's Notes: I actually started writing this fanfic about a month and a half ago and I already have three chapters written out. I almost always write my chapters out on paper first ,so future chapters may take longer to update. And also, as I read some Panfics lately, I've noticed that mine has had a lot of similarities with a lot of them, but I hope it won't end up being the exact same. If I find that it does, I'll take mine down without question.

And for those who haven't read my first Panfic (His Void), please check out my bio and scroll down for it. I'd like to get as much feedback as I can because I'm planning to revise it soon and it'd be get if I could get more comments or suggestions.

Anyway, here's the first chapter. I hope you like it!

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Disclaimer: I do, I do, I do... nope.

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With each passing day

I sink into despair

Her window was open.

But then of course, her window had always been opened, even in the coldest and darkest nights of Winter. The answer to why was quite simple, and it all laid upon one young boy named Peter Pan. Even after promising her years ago that he would come back to visit her, he never did. Idly, it broke her heart, but she never gave up. Night after night, she still kept her window open for him, and for him alone, in hope that he would still come back to her one day.

And though she believed that he never came back, he had. He watched her on many nights when she was unaware and sleeping restlessly. He would linger near her window and watch as she tossed and turned in her sleep. For the first few months, everything seemed to be fine. A smile would always be upon her face every night as she dreamed of him. He knew she did because she had always called out his name in her sleep. But after a while, her blissful dreams seemed to diminish away.

The smile that once graced her comely face had now been replaced with a frown; and her call out to him became less and less faithful every time. It pained him to hear her say his name so indifferently.

These past years, he noticed, ever since coming back from Neverland, she had never been the same—with the exception of the first few months. Her radiance slowly died away with each passing day. For the first few months, she had been excessively happy—telling stories to the boys every single night with so much more passion than she had before—and then after that, she would make herself comfortable next to her window, waiting for him in anticipation. But that also slowed in due time, and it all eventually came to an end, much to his disappointment.

It was then that he noticed something was missing from her; and that was her happiness, her trust. Her eyes no longer held that special spark in them; instead, they were now dull and pained. Seeing her true smile were very rare nowadays, and had been for the past year. Either a frown or the lovely fake smile her parents loved to see so much replaced her true features. Even her voice was rather toneless. It seemed as if she had lost all hope of everything.

And he had to wonder to himself, why did she change? What caused her to do so? And why so drastically? He had watched all of this happen every night over the years and it was amazing to see how much a person, especially someone like Wendy, could change so much. She had blossomed from a playful, sweet little girl into a strikingly beautiful young woman.

It hadn't taken him long to finally realize that she was growing up. What he didn't get though was why. Why did she want to grow up if it made her so miserable like this? It just didn't make any sense. There was no point, no fun, so then why?

A soft moan coming from the inside of her room snapped him out of his thoughts. An aching feeling filled deep within the pit of his stomach and he quickly flew in next to her.

For a while, he just stared at her, long and hard. After taking in her sight, he slowly reached out to touch her cheek, but he was hesitant.

"Peter," she moaned again as she turned her head to the other side. He immediately pulled his hand away and froze.

"Wendy," he half whispered, half sighed as she settled back into a peaceful slumber, "Wake up." He gripped her shoulders lightly and began to shake her. "Wendy."

Very slowly, but surely, her eyes began to flutter open. She blinked a few times, trying to sharpen her vision. What Peter saw was not what he had expected; though sadly, he already knew. A pair of lifeless eyes bore into his own. In truth, he had been expecting something more. Anything at this point would've done for him—happiness, despair, anger—anything, but there was nothing.

"Peter Pan," Wendy said flatly as she sat up in bed, "It's really nice to see you... again."

Peter pulled away from her, sighing in guilt. "I..."

She stared at him brokenly. "When will you truly come back to me? You said you'd come. You promised. Why haven't you kept your word?"

He stared back at her sternly. "What am I doing now? I'm here, aren't I?"

Wendy shook her head as she stepped out of her bed. Peter stood in front of her. "Dreams... they do not count, Peter," she said, "I have dreamt of you countless nights, but this is the dream that still haunts me the most; when you come back to me while I'm asleep... like the first night we met. I've had this dream so many times that I'm even able to predict it now. That's how sad I have gotten, Peter. I'm so restless and tired..."

He continued to stare at her and though his mouth moved to speak, nothing came out. Honestly, he didn't know what to say. He thought that she would've been tearing up by now, happy to see him, but it was the exact opposite. No tears were evident in her eyes—nothing was—and the visit only seemed to pain the both of them.

"I've grown so tired. So tired of it all. My mind won't allow me to forget all of this that has been tormenting me; it won't let me forget you. I've waited for nearly four and a half years for you, Peter, and I cannot wait any longer."

Peter felt a jolt of pain hit his gut. Unable to control himself, he grabbed her shoulders once more and shook her violently. "No! Wendy! You mustn't forget! This isn't a dream! This is real! I'm really here, Wendy. I'm really, really here. Here for you. Don't give up. Please."

She did nothing to stop him from shaking her, only turn away from him to stare at the ground. "I don't want to give up either," she said quietly, "But I've been waiting for too long. Even Mother today told me to grow up. You hear that, Peter? Grow up!" She paused to look back up at him. "You're in my head, you're in my dreams, you're all I ever see and think about! I have to let go of my foolish fantasies and move on."

"Wendy..." he trailed off and shook his head, refusing to believe what he was hearing. This was impossible.

She tore away from him and sat back down on her bed. "It's no use arguing, Peter. I will wake soon, and when I do, it'll be the same thing all over again. It's always the same thing everyday, every night." She tilted her head slightly to the side to look at him from a different angle. "Although," she began, standing back up again, "There is one thing out of place. Have you grown, Peter? I do not recall you ever being this tall."

He scowled.

"It's true," Wendy said in wonder, "Have you not noticed? ...Oh." Her head dropped. "You wouldn't, would you? You're just a dream. You wouldn't know or care about such a thing... only the real thing would."

His anger was beginning to surface, but he was still able to remain calm. "You seem convinced that you are dreaming right now, so I shall let you continue on," he spat at her, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Wendy watched as he turned away from her. For a moment, she just stared at him dully, her eyes focused on his new form. A feeling of regret washed over her when he flew out of the window and into the night, leaving her once again alone in her dark room.

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Author's Notes: I hope it turned out okay... go ahead, ask me questions, give me comments or suggestions, or if you hate it, please tell me personally by e-mailing me. I appreciate all feedback. :)


	2. Letting Go

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YESTERDAY'S MEMORIES

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Chapter Two: Letting Go

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Author's Notes: Peter Pan's coming out on DVD on May 4th... I can't wait. :)

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I'm trying so hard to forget

But my heart still clings on

She woke up to the awful pounding pain of her head. Never before had she ever woken up to pain like this—to the constant throbbing and the overwhelming thoughts that fled through her mind. As she slowly sat up in bed, one thought struck her still.

The dream she had last night of Peter. It was odd, but he was older—if not, he had at least grown. It had felt so real... and she had to wonder, was it supposed to mean something? After all, it was most definitely different from her other distinct dreams.

As she got out of bed, an agonizing sigh escaped from her mouth.

It had been almost like yesterday it seemed. He had promised to visit her many years ago, but never once had he did, except in her dreams—but her dreams were always the same. It became so predictable now that she even _knew_ that she was dreaming. It was sad, but it had gotten to that point and Wendy knew that there was nothing left for her to do but let go. She had to move on and forget and shut the window to the past. Peter would never come back for her now. All the joyful memories she shared with him were now only yesterday's memories.

"Peter," she whispered as she tugged on the acorn that he had given her. While she stared at it, all the fantastical memories of her adventure with him flashed back through her mind, causing her to tremble as she tried to stop her tears. "It's time to let go..."

A call from her mother snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I'm up, Mother," she answered as she slowly turned away from her window.

Her life would never be the same again she knew as she walked out of the door. There would be no Peter Pan anymore—only a Stephen Joshua Alexander.

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He waited patiently for her as she came down the stairs. Exquisitely dressed in a very simple white dress was Wendy with the composed face that he always saw. A smile spread across her lips as she approached him.

"Hello, Wendy," he greeted as he leaned in to kiss her softly on the cheek, "I hope you slept well."

She nodded to him and her smile faded away. "I hope you slept well too." She fidgeted a bit under his gaze, but when she felt her stomach growl, she blushed in embarrassment and quickly took a hold of his hand. "Come on, Stephen. Let's go have some breakfast. I'm quite hungry."

"Oh, that's great. I've got a surprise for you today. I will show you what it is after breakfast," he said eagerly. Wendy pretended to look surprised and smiled a smile that looked genuine.

Over the years, after having meeting Stephen and knowing that she was to be wedded to him, Wendy found herself slowly perishing inside, but adapted well to please everyone around her. While adapting to her new life, she had transformed into an astounding little actress. She was able to fool everyone around her with her false act. Well, that is, _almost_ everyone. Her two brothers, John and Michael seemed to have always seen through her.

"I can't wait."

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"George," his wife said softly as she reached out to grab his hand. A worried expression was painfully obvious upon her face and he couldn't help but give her his full attention. "I'm really worry about Wendy. I haven't the slightest clue how she's going to react."

Mr. Darling shifted within his chair and softly patted his wife's hand in comfort. "Don't you worry about it. It is no use, you know that. We cannot stop it now, so we will see how it goes tonight when she returns, won't we?"

"Yes," Mrs. Darling agreed, "But she isn't happy, George. Our dear Wendy isn't happy, have you not noticed? She may seem fine, but that boy—that wild boy Peter Pan—he has her heart, not Stephen. It would kill me to see her marry and still be unhappy like she is now."

"We're only doing what is best for her. That mischievous boy hasn't return, nor will he ever. She has no choice, Mary. She has to marry."

Mournful for her only and eldest daughter, Mrs. Darling looked away from her husband and to the ground. "I understand that, but I don't think you do. We have been one of the few lucky ones, George. We married with love in our marriage. Wendy, however... will not. It isn't fair for either one of them. It's only a one-sided love. Living an unhappy life—a life with nothing to look forward to is not one worth living at all."

Mr. Darling remained firm on his belief. "There is no other choice."

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She knew what was coming. And the only thing that she wanted to do right now was run away.

In front of her was a sight that many would've loved to be in. Stephen Joshua Alexander was on one knee with a ring in his hand, his face pleading for the proper answer from her. She found herself going numb; nothing could've ever prepared her for this.

She had known Stephen for years and she had grown to love him dearly as a friend. He was always there for her when she got into disputes with her father and he always knew what to do to make her feel better. He made her laugh, he made her cry (unintentionally, of course), he had done everything for her. He was absolutely wonderful to her, but—there was always a but—the thing was, he wasn't the one who had her heart. Sometimes though, she wished that he were.

"I..." she began, earning a hopeful look from him, "I... Stephen." She stopped and held his arm, pulling him back up. "I don't think I'm ready yet..."

"...Oh..." His face dropped and he forced the tiniest smile upon his face. "That's okay, Wendy... there's no rush. No rush at all."

She looked at him sadly, feeling horrible for rejecting such a remarkable young man. "But," she said, adding in a glimmer of hope for him, "When I am ready, Stephen, you will know." She waited until he nodded his head, then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Shall I take you home now?" he asked as they pulled away from each other, "You're probably very tired and I don't want to hold onto you any longer if you are."

Wendy smiled in gratitude. "Thank you."

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"Wendy! Wendy! Won't you tell us a story, just for old times' sake?" the twins had cried out to her that night before she went to bed. With a guilty sigh, she turned back to look at them, a look of regret hidden deep within her eyes.

"I'm sorry, boys, but I'm awfully tired tonight. Besides, aren't we getting a bit too old for that?"

"But you're always tired, Wendy," they whimpered, "And what of Peter? Peter said he'd come to hear stories about him! Don't you believe anymore?"

Wendy turned her head away at their queries and forced another small smile upon her face before turning back to them. "You know I still believe in Peter, you know that I love him very much," she reasoned, "But twins, he hasn't come back and honestly, I don't think he will either."

With wide-eyes, they looked up at her. Had Wendy finally reach the end of her rope? "So... you _don't_ believe in Peter anymore?"

"I... I honestly don't know, but that's not the point. Whether I believe or not, he still won't come back. So boys, let's not waste our time and just go to bed, alright?"

"But—"

"Boys," Mrs. Darling called from their room, "It's time for bed."

With one last dejected glance towards Wendy, the twins—whom the Darlings had named Kenneth and Mitchell—left her room. "Goodnight, Wendy."

"Goodnight, twins. Sleep tight."

It hadn't taken long for Mrs. Darling to settle the boys in. She appeared at Wendy's doorway shortly after, her eyes jaded and her face set unusually calm. "Are you alright, darling?" she asked softly as she approached, taking a seat next to her daughter on her bed.

"I'm fine, Mother," Wendy replied quietly as she turned towards the window, looking out vacantly. Then suddenly, as if her barrier had finally broke, she found herself in the suppressing need to explain her torment. "As hard as I try, I still cannot forget him. I dream of him every night and every night he returns to me. But as each day passes, I find myself tiring quickly. I miss him so much, Mother. Why must he promise me such a thing if he doesn't plan on keeping his word?" A tear escaped from her eye. "Perhaps he has long forgotten."

Mrs. Darling leaned over and hugged her, placing a comforting kiss on her forehead. "Don't think that. I'm sure he still watches over you." She paused, thinking of what she was to say next. "However, you cannot waste forever waiting for him, Wendy. You have to move on, you have to forget, let go..."

"You are right, Mother," Wendy sniffed, "I suppose you knew about the proposal."

She nodded. "I did. How did it go?"

"Well," Wendy sighed, "I know you'll be awfully disappointed in me, but I'm not quite ready for marriage yet. It's just... too soon." Turning to look back, she saw the hidden disappointment within her mother's eyes. Her head dropped; she seemed to disappoint everyone these days. "I'm sorry."

Mrs. Darling attempted a small smile, trying to acknowledge to her daughter that it was okay. "Don't be, dear. It's alright, there is no rush," she explained, "No rush yet... but there will be. Upon your seventeenth birthday, you will be forced to wed. Six months is all you have left."

Wendy nodded slowly, looking away. "I understand..." And it was true, she did understand. She had known about the custom since long ago.

Watching the pained expression on Wendy's face broke her heart. She hated to be the carrier of bad news. "Don't dwell in the past, Wendy. It only brings you sadness and torment."

"I cannot help it," she said brokenly, "If I could, things would not be like this. They'd be different... so much more different... but I can't."

Mrs. Darling pulled her daughter into another hug, allowing her to rest her head on her shoulders. "Wendy, are you willing to try? Will you try to let him go?"

"Yes," spoke Wendy immediately, "I will latch the window tonight, most definitely."

Mrs. Darling watched as she held back the overwhelming tears. Her shoulders began to shake lightly, her throat beginning to tighten up. The elder Darling knew that the child in her arms couldn't take much more before she would break, so gently, she continued to hold onto her, trying her best to comfort and ease the pain.

"Do you love him, Wendy sweetheart? Does the boy honestly hold your heart? Does he make you smile, make you tingle inside? Does he make you happy?" Of course, Mrs. Darling already knew the answers to all of those questions, but she now wanted to hear them. She wanted her daughter to explain her feelings; the feelings she had kept to herself all of these years.

However, Wendy didn't answer; she didn't need to. She knew her mother knew.

No longer able to suppress her sorrow, tears spilled forth from her eyes and she allowed it to. There within her mother's embrace, she continued to let her misery out, her mother there with her all the while... even when she fell asleep.

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A loud knock woke her from her slumber. Faintly, she stepped out of bed, striding over to her window, where the source of the sound came from. She opened it favorably, even though the person she saw was the one who she was trying so hard to let go of.

"Hello Wendy," Peter greeted and she stepped back, allowing him to step foot into her room, "How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine," she answered tiredly. Silence was heavy between them until Wendy gave a little gasp. "This is not real," she whispered with wide-eyes after having pinching herself, trying to convince herself that it was just another dream. "You're real..."

The smirk she missed so much played out across his face. "Of course, Wendy. That's what I tried to tell you yesterday, but you didn't believe me."

Still in shock, Wendy only stared on at him numbly. "W... w-why are y-you... why are you here?"

Before answering her, he made a move forward, wanting to touch her, but she flinched back, shaking her head. He stared at her, bewildered. "Wendy..."

"No," she spoke quietly, brokenly, "No... don't... please." She wrapped her arms around herself, staring back at him in confusion. "Just tell me... what is it that you need, Peter?"

"Need?" Peter echoed, as if he didn't know what she was talking about. "What would I need?"

"I don't know..." she whispered, "Why else would you come back?"

The question struck him silent.

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I finally found time to update... but ugh... school again tomorrow...


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